Please And Tang Soo
by siriusly delusional
Summary: AU: Something bad happened to Shuichi Shindou three months ago, and now he must try to take his life back into his own hands. Enter Eiri Uesugi, blackbelt and Tang Soo Do instructor. Will he be able to give Shuichi the confidence he needs? ShuYuki, HiroK
1. Prologue: The Cyclone In My Head

**"Please and Tang Soo"**

**Written By: **_Emilyz Da Koolest_

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own any of the characters. But, as far as I know, I do own this plot... I really sincerely doubt that anyone else has decided to take Eiri and Shuichi and make them practice Tang Soo Do... I mean, it's not like I'm giving Shuichi or Eiri amnesia or getting Shuichi pregnant, or having Shuichi run away from Eiri to England or America and have him come back with a bunch of OCs as a new band and giving him black hair and clothes from Hot Topic and then having Eiri cut for no reason... You can tell I've run accross many of those, can't you? Not that I really have anything against those stories, it's just insanely overdone. So, yes. As I was saying, I don't own Gravitation or any of the characters. They all belong to magical, lovely, amazing, fantastic Maki Murikami. My gods, I love her to death... le sigh_

**Summary: **_Six months ago, something happened to Shuichi Shindou, a struggling musician, and ever since then he hasn't been the same. Unwilling to go to therapy, his best friend and fellow musician, Hiro, suggests learning self-defense to help him through his tough time. Enter Eiri Uesugi, 4th degree black belt and Tang Soo Do dojo master. He too has his own painful secret. Will the relationship stay strictly professional between the two, or will a new romance bud from the ashes of their past? AU, Romance, drama, slight angst, slight fluff... really depends on the chapter. Pairings: Shuichi/Eiri and Hiro/K Read and reveiw!_

**Author's Notes: **_The idea for this came into being when I went to my friend's Tang Soo Do dojo's open family fun night (isn't it so hideously American? But I loved it!). They did a alot of demonstrations and I got to break a board! Go me! Anyways, they talked about all the reasons why someone persues Tang Soo Do, and one of them, of course, was self-defense, even though most people stay will Tang Soo Do long after they learn how to cope with almost any situation where they would need to use it. So, then I thought, 'what if, after the whole Kitazawa thing, Eiri decided to never be helpless like that again, and began to take Tang Soo Do?' And then, that question immediately led to, 'what if Shuichi did the same thing after Taki? And what if it was Eiri who was his sensei?' And this immediately led to me visualizing this deeply dramatic scene that will be in a later chapter. So, yes. That's where the whole thing came from. Also, as a side note, all the information I am getting on Tang Soo Do is all second-hand. I'm getting it either from the internet or from my friend Susanah, because I don't have the time or the money to pay for lessons (damn you, high school musical practice and all my other extracurricular activites! Damn you, unemployment! Damn you, you damn, dirty apes!). Ah, yes... Nothing brightens up the day quite like a Planet of the Apes reference... Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story and, please, if there are any inaccuracies with the Tang Soo Do, don't hesitate to tell me. I'm hardly an expert. So, sit back with some girl scout cookies or a tub of low fat popcorn and the beverage of your choice, and enjoy 'Please and Tang Soo'. (Ha ha, that title cracks me up, yo!)_

**Prologue: **_The Cyclone In My Head_

"Shuichi?" Shuichi Shindou stared deeply into his mug of coffee, swirling the liquid around until it formed a cyclone of cream, mocha, and sugar. It reminded him of the steep, funnel cloud of a tornado and he could picture one in his mind's eye at the thought, all the while staring at the coffee. Spinning, spinning, the winds twirling and howling with a violence that Shuichi knew all to well now. He remembered his father telling him about the tornado that had hit his neighborhood whenever he had been a child. It had left nothing but rubble and wreakage in it's path. That's the way he felt now. Wrecked. Ruined. A path strewn with thorns.

"Shuichi...?" The tornado was whirling, twirling madly, destroying everything in it's path. Snapping trees, smashing the rice paper houses, breaking bones, breaking hearts... It didn't seem like the destruction would ever stop. The funnel cloud would never recede back to the sky. It would always be there, in the back of his mind, slowly killing the person he once was. The person he had been before--

"Shuichi!" Shuichi almost dropped his coffee, his head snapping up, at attention, eyes focused no longer on the swirling liquid, but on the eyes of his friend sitting across from him. Said friend frowned slightly in worry, leaning forward a little to survey Shuichi closer. His long red hair spilled over his shoulders, framing his face handsomely, warm chocolate brown eyes swimming with concern. Shuichi remembered when his own eyes were like that. Filled with warmth. With emotion. With love. It seemed so long ago now. So much longer than six months. He jumped, nearly knocking over his beverage whenever he felt a hand on his shoulder, before he realized that it was only his friend. Cautiously, the other man removed his hand, biting his lip slightly. "Are you okay, Shuichi?"

Tearing his eyes away from his friend's, he looked down at his hands, ripping at an already torn fingernail. "It's nothing, Hiro. I'm fine." He looked up at him again, feigning a smile. "Really. You shouldn't worry so much."

Hiro sighed, shaking his head and taking a sip of his black expresso. "I can't help but worry. You've been my friend since we were kids. I know when something's wrong with you and I wish you would do something--anything--that would help you work through this whole thing..." He looked deeply into Shuichi's eyes with pity. Shuichi hated it. "I really wish you would consider therapy."

"No!" Shuichi's black hair tumbled into his face as he violently shook his head, eyes wide. He took a deep breath and calmed, before going on. "No. Hiro, I... I appreciate your concern, really, I do... You've been here for me through all of this, and I can't thank you enough for all that you've done for me, but... I'm just not ready to talk about this to anyone else... The only person who even knows about this is you... I don't want to think about it... I _can't _think about it if I want to function at all... It's too painful..." He gazed at his friend with pained brown eyes, trying to make him understand.

Sighing, Hiroshi nodded, giving in. "Fine. No therapy. But will you at least do _some_thing? I get so worried about you, living alone the way you do. You're apartment doesn't have the greatest security in the world..." Shuichi knew that. The sound of the air conditioner or the heater scared him nightly. Any small noise, any imagined movement in the corner of his eye, scared him to the point of crying some nights. The night had been taken from him.

"...What do you suggest?"

Hiro smiled softly, brushing some of his hair out of eyes. "K told me about this Tang Soo Do dojo not too far from where you live. He said that the guy who teaches there is supposed to be amazing and he does one-on-one lessons if you pay extra, in case you don't want to be around a lot people."

Shuichi stared. "K? K told you? You didn't tell him why, did you? He doesn't know, does he?" He felt panic seize him and he tensed, staring desperately at his friend. "K can't know, Hiro! He can't!" He felt his chest tighten and he couldn't breath save for a few short gasps of air as he started to hypervenilate.

Gently, Hiro placed his hands on Shuichi's shoulders, trying to calm him. "Shuichi, I didn't tell him anything, I promise," he said calmly, squeezing his shoulders to reassure him. "I just asked him what the best martial arts dojos were in the city. He didn't even ask." Hiro smiled fondly for a moment, a small curl of his shapely lips, and Shuichi felt as if Hiro weren't really talking to him at all anymore. "You know him, any excuse to talk about weapons and violence and he can go on for hours." His eyes snapped back to Shuichi's, all warmth and love. Things that felt so foreign now to someone so broken. "I didn't tell him it was for you, okay?"

His fear subsiding, Shuichi nodded, taking deep breaths. Hiro removed his hands from his friend's shoulder in a seemingly reluctant way, allowing his fingers to linger a little longer than was nessicary. Shuichi appreciated the sentiment. "I'll... I'll think about it, alright, Hiro? I can't promise you anything, but... I'll look into it." He didn't feel like it was own mouth forming the words. They seemed so empty, meaningless... But he would have to do as he said. He owed it to Hiro for taking him in that night when he showed up at his doorstep, battered and bleeding, barely able to walk due to the violence of what had been done to him, without a single question or a bat of the eye. It was nice to have a constant pillar of support in his life right now. He felt a sudden surge of affection for the man in front of him. "But can you do me one favor?"

The redhead nodded readily, long tresses bobbing up and down from the movement. "Of course, Shuichi, anything. You've been my best friend since we wore clothes picked out by our mothers. There isn't anything that I wouldn't do for you. Just name it."

For the first time in months, Shuichi gave Hiro the first real sign of emotion. It was small, unremarkable to anyone who happened to be passing by, but to Hiro, it meant so much more than words could possible describe.

Shuichi reached accross the table and grasped his hand, an action which shocked even Shuichi.

"Can you come with me?"

Hiro smiled and nodded, stroking the back of his friend's hand in a way that comforted Shuichi immensely. "You didn't even need to ask; I was going to anyway."


	2. Chapter 1: Music's Refugees

**"Please and Tang Soo"**

**Written By: **_anti-nostalgic kuma (or ANKuma)_

**Disclaimer: **_ I don't own Gravitation. And I feel all empty inside because of it. sniff_

**Author's Notes: **_For starters, I'd just like to say that I plan on this chapter being much, much longer and with more than one POV. In this chapter, I'd like to use K's, Hiro's, Shuichi's POV, in that order. Also, I'm going to be writing the rest of this in 1st person, rather than 3rd, which was used only in the prologue and will be used in the epilogue. I've also changed the time span. Six months has been reduced to three. The questions left purposely unanswered in the prologue will be answered here or in a later chapter, and hopefully you'll enjoy this, too. All of this is really just a roundabout way of saying that this is a whole new ball game, folks! This story is already getting away from me and taking on a life of it's own, and I'm only on the first chapter! ' In regards to how I treat the Martial Arts in this; I know that in Japan or Korea(where Tang Soo Do originated), there would be much more discipline. But as I don't know anyone who practices Tang Soo Do in Japan, this is going to be very, VERY Americanized. Please, just grin and bear it? ' I intend to respond to each and every reviewer at the end of the chapter! So now, sit back, relax, and enjoy!_

**Chapter One: **_Music's Refugees_

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**K's POV**

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_"Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness."_

**-Maya Angelou**

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Music really is a beautiful thing. If working in 'the biz' (as Ryuichi calls it) has taught me anything it's that music can express things that words fall short of. Music can make you feel things, see things, make you want to dance until you're consumed by flames and then dance some more, just for the hell of it. And when you're working with musicians, like I do, you can tell when something's wrong with them by the way they play.

Now, I know what you're going to say; I should've noticed something sooner. After all, I'm his manager. It's in my job description to keep him happy, functional, on time, and make sure not a hair on his head is harmed. And it's true; I am supposed to do all of those things.

But you're dead wrong if you think I didn't notice.

Most people wouldn't consider me the intuitive type. After all, I'm an American in a prim and proper Japanese society and I'd be lying if I didn't say that I was a little bit eccentric as well. At least, 'eccentric' is the term I use for it. Most people find 'bat shit crazy' more accurate. But isn't 'eccentric' so much more endearing? It has a bit of a sexy sound to it in my opinion. Hm. Maybe I'd ask Hiro for his opinion later. I'm sure he'd agree with me.

But I digress.

After working with someone who is as...let's say 'energetic' as Shuichi for almost three months, you tend to notice their habits, their wants and needs, their likes and dislikes, the way they sing when experiencing different emotions, the whole shebang. And I'm a keen observer, I can tell you that. By the end of month one, I knew things about Shuichi that his own family didn't know. By month two, I knew Shuichi as well as Hiro knew him. And by month three, I had Shuichi mapped out like...something you'd put on a map.

But overnight, everything I had mapped out became useless in the matter of Shuichi.

So, you see, I did notice. Of course I noticed. Everyone could notice.

The question you should be asking me is this; why didn't I do anything about it?

The answer to that is simple. I didn't know what the problem was. Shuichi doesn't confide in me. Shuichi confides in his best friend.

Enter Hiroshi Nakano, stage right!

Now, I'd never do anything as low as to ask him to betray the confidence of such a close and important friend. He wouldn't do that anyways, being the loyal friend he is, and if there were a rift between the two of them the headline would read 'Sayonara, Bad Luck!'. It's hard enough to keep Shuichi and Fujisaki from killing each other on a daily basis as it is.

So, no, I wouldn't ask him to do that. Based on my strict moral grounds, of course.

But there is still something that Hiro can give me.

Heh, I know I made it sound dirty just now, but that's really not how I meant it. If things go well, perhaps someday, but I digress once again. Even if he can't tell me what exactly the problem is, he can still help me come up with ways to keep Shuichi working and functional, and to make him feel as relaxed and at ease as possible.

All it takes is small things like always leaning to his side when he and Fujisaki have an argument, shooting Fujisaki instead of him, and letting him sleep in an extra five minutes every morning.

Sometimes I wonder when exactly it was that I became such a softie.

I guess what I'm really trying to say is that I care about the kid. I want him to succeed. I want him to be happy. And I want to make him the biggest super star since Ryuichi Sakuma.

"If it's a dream that can't be reached, well, then-- let's fling it a--"(1)

But I swear to -insert deity of your choice here- that if his voice cracks one more time during this recording session, I'm going to put a slug right in between his friggin' eyes!

"What the hell was that!" I bellow, standing up so violently from my chair in the recording room that it topples over and Sakano nearly faints in surprise. "Can't we get through this song just once without your voice cracking! Get your act together or I'll shoot you in the face!"

Well, what can I say? Handling people with Kid Gloves has never been my thing.

I find that brute force and intimidation gets much faster results.

Shuichi flinches a little, Suguru looks more than mildly annoyed, and Hiro sighs, lowering his head so that his hair covers his face. Not a good sign. I feel a twinge of guilt as I remember I promised him that I wouldn't fly off the handle when dealing with Shuichi.

But damn it, we're supposed to be making music here! And I take that very seriously.

I take a deep breath and try again, removing my hand reluctantly from the Magnum in my holster. Huh. That's funny. I don't even remember reaching for it.

Anyways, back to Shuichi.

"I'm sorry, K. Really. I...I'll try harder, okay? From the top?" The look that he gives me in those brown eyes makes me feel ashamed of myself. For the first time I see how truly broken Shuichi is. Like a porcelain doll thrown carelessly to the floor. He's paler than he should be and thinner, as if he hasn't been eating. There are dark circles under his eyes from what without a doubt must be insomnia and his inky black hair is grown out; he hasn't been keeping up with cutting it. But the most noticeable difference are the shadows in his eyes.

When I first met Shuichi, those brown eyes were warm and vibrant and they shined like the stars. His eyes told me even more than his voice that he could become more than a star; they told me he could become a full-blown super nova the way that Ryuichi Sakuma's did.

But now the shimmer of the stars was dimmed by dark shadows that had no place there to begin with.

I shake my head. Mustn't get too lost in my own thoughts. I have a job to do, after all. "Don't worry about it," I say, a huge smile on my lips before giving him my trademark "no problem" in English. "Why don't you all take a break for a hour? We can have lunch early. How does that sound?"

It's Suguru who's the first to answer. "Fine. Maybe when we get back we can actually get some work done." He says it with a not-so-subtle glare as he leaves the room in Shuichi's direction, who bites his lip and looks down at his feet, overgrown bangs shielding his eyes from the world. Hiro sets his guitar down, propped up against the wall of the recording room and walks over to Shuichi, draping an arm around his shoulders.

"Why don't you go to Zenny's and order for us and I'll met you there in a few minutes, alright?" Hiro says, smiling reassuringly at the singer, who seems to unfurl a little bit in Hiro's presence. I find myself just a little bit jealous. I also find myself with my hand on my gun again.

Emotions, huh? They really like to screw with your head.

Shuichi nods and gives Hiro a poor excuse for a smile, exiting followed by Sakano. Me and Hiro are the only ones left. Alone. In the recording studio. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't fantasized about that numerous times since we met. Even when Judy and I were still together. Oh, yes, I can be a naughty, naughty boy...

But for the third time, I digress.

Hiro walks over to me, looking very tired himself, similar insomnia circles under his brown eyes, too. I wonder what (or who, I add bitterly) is keeping him up? He smiles at me, running a hand absently through his dyed red hair, and asks distantly, "Can I have a hair tie?" I laugh a little and reach into my pocket and supply him with one, watching as he pulls back his hair. "Thanks. The one I was wearing snapped on the way to the studio and it was getting in my face while I played. It makes it hard to practice."

I nod in understanding, reaching into my breast pocket and take out a cigarette for the both of us. We both look like we need it, I'm sure, and he accepts it gratefully. I light them for both of us and let the silence hang in the air, inhaling and exhaling slowly as I look out the window and then back to Hiro, the smoke curling and disappearing into the air. "You know that if we don't lay down more than the seven tracks we have soon, Tohma is going to make Shuichi's life hell, don't you?"

Taking another drag, Hiro nods, rolling his shoulder blades with a grunt. "Yeah, I know..."

I nod back absently as I chew the filter, taking it in. "If only he would just snap out of the funk he's in..." I muse, tapping away the ashes, and returning the cigarette to my mouth.

Hiro exhaled deeply, letting loose a puff of smoke into the air, looking mildly angry at my ignorance. "I'm sorry to tell you this, K, but what Shuichi's going through isn't something you just 'snap out of' and magically get over!" His words are harsh and for a minute I'm taken aback. Hiro's never sassed me before. Hell, out of the lot of them, he and I get along absolutely famously. The surprise must have shown on my face, because Hiro automatically looks apologetic and I feel his hand grip my forearm gently. "Hey... I'm sorry... You don't know what he's going though and that's not your fault..." He shakes his head and takes another drag from his cigarette in a self-berating sort of way that I find extremely endearing. Huh. 'Endearing'. I like that word. Especially when describing Hiroshi Nakano. "I shouldn't have said that."

I smile to show him that I've already forgiven and forgot. He smiles back and moves a little closer. We don't realize until we're done with our cigarettes that he's still holding my forearm.

Blushing, he pulls his hand away like he's touched a hot iron and I find myself with this mad urge to kiss him senseless. I want to so badly and I lean in, dangerously close, but he pulls away the last second, smiling and blushing profusely. "Thanks again for the cigarette and the hair tie, K. Let's... uh... Let's do this again...sometime." He nervously jerks his thumb to the door before continuing. "Shuichi's waiting for me and I don't want to keep him waiting. If it means anything, I think he's ready to start moving forward. He's taking steps to get past this...part of his life right now. And I know he'll finish the album." He twitches anxiously, eyes darting towards the door. "I should go. He needs me. And he really shouldn't be alone right now." He gently runs his hand over mine, fingers brushing against fingers and he smiles so gently that I forgive him for leaving. "I'll see you in an hour."

As he leaves and I replay the song we were just recording, hearing Shuichi's crooning, sad vocals, I can't help but think about my singer and his current state of disrepair.

"Shuichi," I muse out loud around a second cigarette to the empty recording studio from my once again upright chair, "who so thoroughly destroyed you?"

(1)from 'Blind Game Again', translated, towards the end of the song.

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**Hiro's POV**

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_"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent."  
**-Victor Hugo**_**  
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There isn't any limit as to what I would do for Shuichi. I'd die for him, I'd kill for him, I'd steal and cheat and lie and I would gladly have taken the terrible things done to him that night three months ago in his stead if I could've just so that he wouldn't have had to suffer. I'll even put my relation--whatever this thing is-- with K on hiatus just to take care of him. I can't think of a single thing I wouldn't say or do for him.

Why? Because I know that, if our positions were reversed, Shuichi would do the same for me.

Sometimes I wonder where I'd be without him. Probably in Med School, playing the part of the 'good son' and married to some airy-fairy beauty who, though pretty, doesn't have a single original thought in her head.

In other words, I'd be living for my parents and hating every second of it.

It sounds terrible, but unlike Shuichi, there is a limit on what I would do for my parents.

I wonder what my mother would think if she knew that I had feelings for my crazy, American, gun-toting manager?

She'd probably disown me.

And that's what I love about Music. Music is so kind. It doesn't judge you, it's always there for you, and it can be your voice when no one listens. Next to Shuichi, Music is my best friend. And Music knows things about me that K and Shuichi don't even know. It knows things about me that I prefer they didn't.

I enter Zenny's, the bell attached to the door tinkling merrily as I do so, and spot Shuichi in our usual corner, stirring his coffee aimlessly. I walk up to him and put on a smile, sit opposite him and poke his forearm to let him know I've arrived.

He jumps at the contact, but smiles when he sees that it's only me. I'm only glad that he knows I'd never hurt him. I'm only glad that he trusts me enough to let me touch him after all he's been through.

What can I say? I love the little punk.

Not romance, 'til death do us part, three kids, a house, and mortgage kind of love, but one that runs deep with affection and trust nonetheless. I love him more than a brother. After all, there is a limit on what I'd do for Yuji, but not for Shuichi.

"What took you so long?" His eyes are like almonds, with shadows that I can barely look at without feeling the urge to kill those sick sons of bitches that made them that way (after all, I did say that I'd kill for him, and I meant that). And yet, he still manages to retain that innocence, that beauty, and once in a while, I can catch a glimpse of the old Shuichi I fell 'in love' with, so to speak. Sometimes, I can tell he's going to survive this.

I smile falsely. I don't want to worry him with my own pathetic problems about K and my non-existent love life. His current plight is much more important. "Sorry. I had to talk to K. We had a smoke. Are they cooking our food?"

Shuichi nods distantly in response to my question and taps the glass of Coke in front of me with his fingernail. Huh. That's funny. I didn't even notice it. "It should be out soon." Suddenly, I am fixed with the most pricing look that Shuichi's ever given me. I freeze underneath his gaze. "So...you've been talking with K a lot lately, haven't you, Hiro?" His voice is light and airy, but I can sense the implication of it. Damn it. I've been treating him so delicately that I seem to have forgotten how perceptive and capable he really is.

I try to worm my way out. Shuichi doesn't need to know any of this. At least not right now. "I don't know what you mean." My voice is as lofty and smooth as his was as I sip my Coke, but my own implication rings clear in his ears; 'drop it'.

It's too bad he never listens to me.

He sighs and smiles softly, reaching his hand out to touch my wrist, shaking the limp, too-long bangs from his eyes. "Hiro, Hiro, Hiro... Don't lie to me. I can always tell when you're lying." He taps his nose and smirks a little, still not letting go of my wrist.

I try again. "Really, Shuichi, there's nothing to talk about. You don't need to worry about my problems right now, okay?" Please, I say telepathically to him, please don't worry about this... You've got enough to worry about already.

"Did it ever occur to you that it might be...healthy for me to worry about it?" His hand is still on my wrist and he squeezes gently. Sometimes I can be such a mother hen when it comes to Shuichi. "I mean...we used to worry about each others problems all the time... I liked that. I miss that. I miss the normalcy of everyday meaningless chit-chat where you didn't look at me with such sad eyes." Shuichi's slight shoulders slump and seem to almost disappear. His hand leaves my wrist and his forefinger ghosts the skin underneath my eyes. "Such sad eyes, Hiro. What do you have to be sad about?"

I smile and lower my head, embarrassed. I really had been coddling him. My eyes meet his once more. "You really want to know about the ongoing drama of Claude Winchester and Hiroshi Nakano?" His eyes brighten immediately and it's almost as if those shadows aren't there. I know that they are, hiding just in the corners of his eyes, but right now, at least I can pretend that they're not.

He grins. "Oh, yes, the whole torrid love affair." I laugh and he echoes me. The waiter brings the food and I insist on paying for us both, which makes Shuichi actually whine at me. Kami-sama, how I had missed that whine.

"So, Hiro, tell me! I wanna know about you and K and your forbidden office romance!" He's almost like he was before. Full of life. I try to pretend like nothing's different. And he does the same thing.

I laugh. "You're really making this into something much bigger and dramatic than it actually is, you know, " I tell him, reaching over and poking his side, which makes him giggle. I take a bite of my maki roll before going on. "I like K." Shuichi snorts as he eats his miso soup and I chuckle. "Alright, alright, I'm understating, I admit it. I...I have strong feelings for K. And I think he likes me, too... Only..."

Shuichi nods. "You're afraid that you're going be a rebound."

"Well, that's definitely part of it," I admit, taking another sip of my Coke. "And the fact that he's our manager. I mean, if things worked out between us, it wouldn't really effect our work that much, you know? But what if we break up? Or have a fight? What would that do Bad Luck?" It feels so good to tell that to someone other than music. I forgot how good it feels to tell things like this to Shuichi.

"I think that there's something else, too, isn't there?" Shuichi takes a long gulp of his coffee as he looks at me, serious once again. K was right when he said that he and Ryuichi are a lot alike. Their similarities transcend mere looks. "You're afraid of what getting into a relationship might do to me."

After a moment, I nod hesitantly. There isn't anything to be gained in lying to him. "You're...going through a lot right now. I just don't feel right about pursuing this thing with K whenever his divorce--albeit a rather friendly divorce--is so recent and right after you've been--"

"Hiro, take me to that Tang Soo Do dojo after work." Shuichi's eyes are hard and I am unable to argue. I nod. "If it'll make you feel better about this thing with K, and it'll make me come to terms with everything's that's happened, then I want to do it as soon as possible." His gaze turns soft again, vulnerable like a spooked rabbit. I feel the need to hug him. "I don't want you putting your life on hiatus because of me. We're too good of friends for me to allow that." He sighs brokenly and seems to look through me for a second, melancholy personified. "Music is the only thing I was ever good at and I could always say what I felt better with it. It was the one thing that I could tell all my secrets and trust not to judge me. It was my only refuge. But now... I don't think Music is enough to help me now." He looks so lost in this moment, so untouchable and yet so breakable, and I want to protect him.

"Have you thought about writing your feelings down? I heard that that helps. Maybe put it to music?"

Shuichi smiles in an ironic sort of way. "I tried to, " he admits, taking another sip of his coffee. "But what's expressed in those scores and lyrics are not meant for human ears." He changes suddenly, a warmer smile on his lips, eyes wide and innocent. The shadows there are playing hide-and-seek again. "So, you'll show me where this Tang Soo Do place is?"

I nod. "Yeah, I'll give you a ride there on my motorcycle and then I'll give you a lift home. If you want, I can crash on your coach for the night."

He nods back, taking everything in. The waiter cleans our table and we thank him. "Thanks. I appreciate all the moral support." I leave money for the food and I let Shuichi tip.

"No problem. What are friends for?" We stand up and go to leave, silence falling over us as we walk back to NG. I can't help but ask. The question seems to just slip out of my mouth. "What would happen if someone would listen to the music you've written about your feelings lately?"

Shuichi turns around to look at me, another enigmatic smile on his lips. "They'd go insane."

We don't speak for the rest of the walk, but I can't help but wonder what he means by that.

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**Shuichi's POV**

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_"You are the music while the music lasts."  
**-T. S. Eliot**_

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I used to think that Music could solve any problem that I might have. To me, it was a supreme, omnipotent force that only a chosen, lucky few could tap into. Being able to make music--music in its truest form--was like being touched by Kami-sama or reaching complete nirvana. Music was enlightenment and the absolute understanding of everything. With Music, there was nothing that I couldn't say or do because it was the one thing that I knew would always be there for me, to solve any problem, to get me through any hurt.

But three months ago, HE changed all of that.

All of my carefully laid plans, my dreams of stardom, my longing to be able to tap into Music...it all became so meaningless. Everything seemed that way. Colors didn't seem so bright, the air didn't smell as sweet, the food didn't taste as good. Nothing seemed as vivid when compared to this red-hot pain deep in my stomach.

If it weren't for Hiro, I'd probably have killed myself.

Of course, he doesn't know that. If he knew, he'd never let me be alone for the rest of his life. It's not as if I feel stifled or controlled by him; Hiro lets me make my own decisions and he knows ultimately that the decision is mine. For instance, he wanted me to press charges, and I didn't. I don't think I'd be able to go through the lengthy law system and besides, HE took pictures of everything. I don't want anyone to see those pictures as long as I live.

Anyways, it's not like I'll ever have to see HIM again. A few weeks after it happened, HE mysteriously disappeared and no one seems to know where HE is. Which is comforting in one way and petrifying in another.

Sometimes, when I sleep, I see THEIR faces looming over me and smell their foul breath and I feel everything again with such acuteness, it makes me vomit.

Hiro doesn't know about that, either. There are just some things that I don't think he should know. And, fortunately, he never pushes the issues I don't wish to discuss. He's really a great friend.

I cling to him as we ride his motorcycle. He always let's me wear his real helmet instead of his flimsy secondary one. He's always been like that; 'my knight in shining armour' as Maiko would call him. It really is an accurate description. He's always looked out for me, ever since we were little.

Maybe that's why he blames himself for what happened.

I don't think he really knows that he's doing that. I doubt he's really thought about why he feels so guilty. It's like he's punishing himself for it by not letting himself get involved with K.

But I want that for him. I want him to be happy. He, above everyone else, deserves that.

Hiro pulls over and parks in a lot next to a small, one-story building. We get off the bike and walk over to the dojo. I walk very close to Hiro. It's unremarkable on the outside; plain and boring white cement and Venetian blinds, the words 'Uesugi Tang Soo Do' above the glass pane door. Most days I simply passed this building by without a second thought, but today...today I was going inside of it. I was going to become part of it.

Hiro turns to me and smiles encouragingly. "Ready to go in?"

I nod with more confidence that I feel.

Together, we open the door and walk in.

We enter the room and are greeted by two flags; Japanese and Korean. Inside, the floors are polished to a perfect gloss. There is a gong hanging over the doorway on the other side of the door. There are photographs of people wearing their do bohk, some sparring, some holding up awards, some simply standing and smiling. Equipment also lined the walls, everything from weapons to pads and framed belts to show ranks. Mirrors also line the walls sporadically, so, I assume, the students can see if they are doing everything right.

In one photograph, a tall man with blonde hair, possibly half American or European, stands with his fully trimmed do bohk and sporting the highest rank of black belt, his hazel eyes piercing and cold. I can't stop looking at him.

"What do you want?" I turn towards the door with the gong and see the same man in the picture I was just staring at. He stands tall with perfect posture and I am pinned underneath his cold eyes. I seem to lose all power of speech(2). I find that his voice is just as captivating as his eyes.

Hiro bails me out. "Please, sensei," he says with a low bow, "my friend here wishes for you to teach him Tang Soo Do."

My eyes widen as he considers Hiro for a minute and turns to me. I don't know how he got across the dojo so fast. He looks at me and I feel as though I can't breath. "Is this true?"

I nod and bow lower than Hiro had a moment before. "Yes," I manage to squeak out, starring at the polished wood of the floor. "I wish for private lessons."

His hand reaches out and holds my chin in a surprisingly gentle way, forcing me to straighten up and meet his eyes. His eyes scrutinizes me for what seems like hours, and I'm sure he can see every fault and imperfection that I have. It's only when he pulls his hand away that I realize I haven't flinched at his touch.

"No." His answer is short and simple as he crosses his arms across his chest. "I won't teach you. You're too weak." He turns and begins walking away, back through the door with the gong above it.

I feel a fire start in the pit of my stomach where all my hurt has been stewing for so long now. "Yes," I say back with such forcefulness that it makes Hiro gape at me and the blonde stop in his tracks. "You will teach me." He turns around and the look on his face can only be described as mildly amused. What an asshole. "I mean, what gives you the audacity to look at me for five seconds and then call me weak? What do you know? You're like, 'oooh, I'm a big bad black belt. I'm sooo strong, I can look down on anybody because they're short and skinny.' Well, that's not how life works! Do you even know what I've survived in my life? What do you know about any of that?" I realize I'm rambling, but I can't seem to stop myself. It's been too long since I've just let everything loose. It feels good. "You know, maybe I am physically weak. That's why I'm here! So that I can protect myself against ego-maniacs like you! So, unless you're afraid that little old me is going to be too much of a challenge, take me on as your new student!"

Hiro looks like he can't decide whether or not to be horrified or burst out laughing. The blonde has an unreadable expression on his face and I wonder for a moment whether or not I've gone too far. Well, of course I did, I think, biting my lip, he's not going to teach me after I called him an ego-maniac!

But suddenly the corner of his lips turn up in a sort of half-smile and he walks toward me until he's right in front of me, only a few inches away. I have to look up to see his face and I realize just how much taller he is than me. "You know," he says in a dangerously soft voice that sends shivers down my spine, "I don't think anyone's had the balls to say anything like that before. Especially not someone of your stature." I glare at him for the jibe at my height and his smirk widens. "When would you like to start taking lessons?" My surprise must show on my face, because he continues, "Yes, yes, I'm going to teach you. Don't gape at me like a fish. Now when would you like to start taking lessons?"

"Well," I answer after I collect myself from the shock, "I just got off work about fifteen minutes ago, so I'd have to do it around this time most days. But I'm not sure when I'll be able to train once I start touring..."

He scoffs. "A musician. I should have known. Looking to be the next Nittle Grasper, are you?"

I glare at him. "No. We're going to be better than Nittle Grasper."

The blonde smirks. "Don't we have big dreams," he teases in a patronizing sort of way. Really, what was K thinking when he recommended this guy? He's a total prick! "I'm assuming that you already have a record deal?"

I nod. "Of course I do! I'm signed on with NG Productions. I'm Shuichi Shindou of Bad Luck!"

I glance at Hiro who looks extremely amused at our exchange. I turn back at the black belt who chuckles sardonically. "Oh, so that explains it. Tohma's finally getting senile in his old age. That single you guys came out with was one of the worst things I've ever had the misfortune to hear. Though, I suppose, that means the teenage kogal(3) demographic will go wild over it."

I narrow my eyes at him. "What do you know about Music, anyway? And what's with calling Mr. Seguchi 'Tohma'?"

He smirks again, an infuriating kind of smirk, and brushes some stray tresses from his eyes. "Why, don't you know who I am?" I shake my head and feel kind of stupid. Should I know who he is? "I'm Uesugi Eiri. I'm Tohma's brother-in-law."

Holy crap.

"You're Seguchi's brother-in-law!" I say in a shrill voice, taken aback. He nods with amusement and I 'gape like a fish' as Uesugi-sensei would put it. What a twist! "But...but... Seguchi-san's wife is full Japanese!"

His eyes darken. "So am I." I swallow hard. Sometimes I really need to keep my mouth shut. "Just because I was born with blonde hair, doesn't mean that I'm not every bit as Japanese as you are. If there is one thing that can be said for America, it's that no one ever thought I was strange for my differences. Japan puts too much emphasis on what a Japanese should look like." His voice is deep and dangerous and I feel bad for what I've said.

"I'm sorry," I say, bowing low, unable to think of anything else to say.

He sighs deeply and waves dismissively with his hand. "Don't worry about it. So, when would like to start?"

I straighten up and shrug. "Is the spot right now empty every week at this time?" Uesugi-sensei nods. "Well, then, is every Thursday at eight sound good? I could come on the weekends, too, if that's alright. I live only a few blocks away."

Eiri nods once again. "That should be fine. You'll need to buy a do bohk and any belt you earn. Whenever you get a higher rank, you'll need to get a new do bohk with special trim." He walks over to one of the walls and pulls out a pamphlet from a shelf, before walking back and handing it to me. "The prices and any additional information you need will be in that." He gives me an appraising look. "You do realize that private lessons don't come cheap?"

I look him in the eyes. "You do realize that I have two hit singles and a album coming out which is speculated to go platinum?"

He smirks. "Touché." He walks back towards the door under the gong with an air of nonchalance about him, before turning around to look at me again. "I'll see you next Thursday with enough money to cover everything. Then, we'll begin our lessons, Shindou-san." With that, he disappears through the doorway. I stare after him.

A hand on my shoulder makes me jump. I turn and see Hiro and smile at him in relief. "Well," I say with a nervous sort of laugh, "that went well, huh?"

He just shakes his head and leads me towards the door. We leave the dojo and I put on his helmet as he fastens the secondary one to his chin. "That Uesugi guy... I mean, K told me he was intense, but I didn't think he was going to be like that."

I laugh. "He's an asshole, but I can handle him. I'm just worried about him. Maybe he's not up to training superstar Shuichi Shindou."

Hiro looks at me for a minute and then smiles, getting on the bike. I hop on behind him. "You know, I feel good about this. I think you and Uesugi-san will be good for each other. Just look at how being around him for a few minutes has transformed you."

He turns the bike on and I hold onto his waist tightly. As we ride to my apartment, I can't help but think that Hiro's right. When I was talking to Eiri, I did feel a little bit like my old self again.

Why does that scare me so much?

(2) I didn't realize this when I wrote this orignally, but when I was proofreading and changing errors, I realized that this was a lyric in Placebo's 'Without You I'm Nothing', featuring David Bowie... I love that song.

(3) A kogal, from what I understand, is the Japanese equivalent of a Valley Girl. Short skirts, tube socks, etc. Teeny boppers, if you will.

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**_To Be Continued...  
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Author's Notes: **_Wow! This story is really taking on a life of it's own! I don't think I've ever written a chapter that's 5,944 words long before! An entire story, maybe, but a chapter? Yowza! Anyways, I hope you liked it! Read and Reveiw!_


	3. Chapter 2 The Lessons We Learn

**"Please and Tang Soo"**

**Written By: **_anti-nostalgic kuma (or ANKuma) (or siriusly delusional on fanfiction)_

**Disclaimer: **_ I don't own Gravitation. If I did, I'd be rich, Japanese, and I wouldn't have to write fanfiction about Eiri and Shuichi. Also, I'm not cool enough to come up with such awesome characters and plotlines. So, yeah..._

**Dedicated To: **_My best friend, Katie, whose birthday was on July 20th. Thus, I comemerate her turning sweet 16 with this dedication she will probably never read and the Anthony Kiedis quote at the start of the story. (Katie digs the Chilli Peppers, what can I say?) Happy Birthday!_

**Author's Notes: **_Originally, I had intended to finish off the last chapter with Eiri's POV, but I figured that the chapter would be too long. I hope that I'm doing a good job on this story so far. Though, with the reveiws I've recieved, I must be doing something right, ne? I missed writing fanfiction! I took a break from posting for a while because I couldn't log in to anything and the writing I did then was really sporatic. I forgot what it's like to have people read and comment about one's work and the inspiration one gets from such comments! Thanks so much for all your encouragement! Now, enjoy the second chapter of Please and Tang Soo!_

**!Important Notice: **_This chapter will be filled with Tang Soo Do terminology. I will number the terms and list their translations at the end of the POVs. Also, I apollogize for any inaccuracies in the Tang Soo Do I'm describing; it's summer and I don't see my friend who actually practices it until school starts up again. Please bear with me. Also, the spelling of the terms in Korean or Chinese are how it would be pronouced in English, as the site I got them off of listed them as such. The site will also be at the end of the story, if you're interested. Tang Soo! bows_

**Chapter Two: **_The Lessons We Learn_

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_"Sometimes life's so much cooler when you don't know any better and all the painful lessons have not hammered your heads open yet."_

_**-Anthony Kiedis**_

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**Eiri's POV**

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It's our first lesson. Well, our first real lesson, anyway. Past the terminology and history of the subtle art of Tang Soo Do. He's finally ready learn. He's going to regret ever challenging me. I'm going to make sure of that.

I am his teacher and teacher means god. If I teach him only one thing, it will be that.

I learned that lesson long ago.

"_Choon Bee_."(1)

He grits his teeth and glares at me, but he moves into position. Like any novice, he gets it wrong. "_Nappeun_."(2) I shake my head and reach down to tap his knee, signaling him to move his legs further apart. Then, I adjust his fists so that they're closer together. I can almost feel his anger from the look he's giving me, and I decide to rub it in his face. "This is how the _Choon Bee Cha Seh_(3) is supposed to look." I demonstrate it immaculately.

"_Ye_(4), _Nim_(5)," he says with a hint of sarcasm. I give him a sharp look which silences him.

Good. He's learning.

"_Choon Bee Uhn Dong_(6)," I command again, a sort of steel in my voice, daring him to challenge me.

"_Ye_!" His voice is forceful, and I find the same tone in his voice as I had in mine.

Well, isn't that interesting?

I begin calling out the number of the warm-up movements. It's time to see if he remembers each position and can execute them fluidly. "_Il, ee, sam, sah, oh, yuk, chil, pahl, ku, sip!_(7)" I'm only mildly surprised when he does each of them nearly flawlessly. The kid's a fast learner. And he learns much faster when he's pissed off at me.

Funny how that works, huh?

As I lead him through the motions over and over again, correcting him absently whenever he makes a mistake, I wonder what exactly it was that made me take him on as a student.

I find that the answer to that is simple: He's just like HE used to be.

They even look something alike, when you look very close. It's not a physical resemblance, but they seem to have the same air about them, the way they carry themselves is almost identical.

It's extremely disconcerting, though, when the reason why I accepted him is the exact reason why I didn't want to in the first place.

Any idiot can see that he's been through something. You can see it in the way he moves, the sadness and determination about him, the shadows in his eyes.

I imagine that he must have been loud, obnoxious and hyperactive before whatever happened to him happened. Carefree, ambitious, happy-go-lucky. He must have danced in the rain, singing at the top of his lungs and laughed until his sides hurt and then laughed some more simply because he could. He must have had a very nice life before life's lessons decided to ruin his innocence.

As I watch him, I think, he must have played such happy music.

And in those ways, I find, he is exactly like I was.

"_Shio_(8)," I say gently, feeling the start of what must be sympathy tugging at my heart. He bows gratefully before sitting on the wooden floor of the _Do Jang_(9) to catch his breath. I watch as he stands up after a moment and goes towards his stuff, taking out a water bottle from his book bag and having a long drink from it before returning to sit. He seems to notice that my eyes haven't left him the whole time, but if he has, he says nothing.

He smiles suddenly, brushing some of his dark hair out of his eyes. "Hey, _Nim_, what made you want to start Tang Soo Do?"

I fix him with a look that makes him swallow hard. "What made you want to start?"

He looks down at his feet and fiddles with the ankle cuff of his do bohk, the smile no longer on his face. "...Something bad happened to me," he says softly, voice barely above a whisper. I am overcome with the strange sensation that he is no longer really talking to me. "I don't want to be in another position where I can't defend myself again. And it'll make life easier for Hiro when he doesn't feel he has to protect me all the time."

It was vague, but I can tell it was honest. "We have something in common, then." My voice is as quiet as his was and I wonder, briefly, if our stories are more similar than they seem. "Let's close up this lesson with _Muk Yum_(10) and then you can leave."

"Ye." Shuichi nods and moves into meditative position. I join him after I correct his posture.

After the meditation, we stand up and bow to each other. Then, we bow to each of the flags; both Japanese and Korean. I can see the red haired man that Shuichi came with when he registered waiting on the other side of the glass door and I assume that he's Hiro. "You better go," I say without emotion, "you're boyfriend's waiting for you."

Shuichi looks confused. "Boyfriend?"

I nod. "Yes. Over there." I point to the door and the man waves at Shuichi with a smile. Shuichi waves back, brow creased a little, before he understands what I mean.

He looks at me again and laughs. "Oh! You mean Hiro." His eyes are filled with amusement and I wonder if his eyes looked like that all the time before. All I know for sure is that mine did. "Hiro's my best friend. He's attractive enough, but, no, I'm afraid that he's not my boyfriend."

Well, don't I feel like an idiot?

"I apologize. I shouldn't have just assumed that--"

He laughs again and interrupts me. "Oh, no, it's not your fault. Everyone thinks that. When our current manager started up, he thought there was something going on between us, too. And we do sort of play off of that on stage a little." His eyes dart to the doorway where Hiro is standing and tapping his watch pointedly before turning back to me. "Well, I have to go. I need to get home and have something to eat." He seems to hesitate for a moment before he holds out his hand American-fashion. I stare. "You shake it," he explains, "my manager is American. He taught me."

"I know," I reply a little cooler than I mean to, "I lived abroad in America for a few years when I younger." I slip my hand into his and feel a little pulse of electricity run through my body as our skin connects. His eyes widen a bit and his cheeks tinge pink and I know he's felt it too. We shake hands, briefly, before he takes his hand away. My own slides back down at my side, a feeling of loss at the absence of his touch.

"I want to thank you," he says after he's regained his composure, "for teaching me all of this." The sparkle of stars is back in his eyes for a moment. "I feel a lot better knowing that I can at least throw a punch."

I shrug. "It's nothing special. I teach a lot of people. And you pay me."

He laughs but the sparkle's gone. He fixes me with a serious look. "Still...it's helping me a lot... I feel like, maybe, if I were in that situation again...I could've fought back more...been more effective. You're the first person to give me that. So thank you." Suddenly he wraps his arms around my middle. It feels so foreign. I remember when I used to cling to people like that. Awkwardly, I pat his shoulder twice and he squeezes me for a moment before letting me go. When I see his face again, he's blushing and looking embarrassed of himself. "I-I'm sorry," he stammers, running a hand through his sweaty black hair, "I shouldn't have--"

"It's alright," I say softly, able to keep my voice neutral despite the conflicting emotions in me. "Just...don't make a habit out of it. Next time I might not be so nice." I want to run away and all the while I want to hold him close and never let him go. I try to suppress it. Feelings like that can be dangerous. My eyes dart to the door where I can see Hiro watching us with rapt attention. I am embarrassed. "You better go. You don't want to keep your friend waiting."

I watch him run to the door and leave the _Do Jang_. He and Hiro walk away from the door and I can't see them anymore. I retreat to my office and slump into my chair, placing my head in my hands. When Shuichi touched me, I had felt electricity, blood flowing, heart beating. I had felt attraction on the most pure, unadulterated level and it had sent my mind spinning. It wasn't a feeling that was alien to me. I've felt it before. When I was 16 years old.

I pick up the receiver of my desk phone and push the first memory dial button in a panic. It rings three times before there's an answer.

"Moshi moshi(11)?"

"Hello, Tohma, it's Eiri." I feel myself shaking and my palms sweating.

"Eiri-san! What is it? Is something the matter?" My brother-in-law's voice is full of concern and I can tell he's picked up on the slight panic in my voice.

"Can I talk to you right now?"

"Of course, Eiri-san, I'll pick you up from the Do Jang and we'll go to that restaurant you like so much. I'm sure I can manage to sneak in a reservation on such short notice." I am suddenly very thankful Tohma's willing to give me as much attention as he does. It usually annoys me to no end. "How long do you think it will take you to get ready?"

"15 minutes."

"Alright. I'll be waiting outside."

"Thank you." I put the receiver clumsily back into the cradle and change out of my do bohk into a pair of black dress pants and a dark red dress shirt. As soon as I leave the Do Jang, Tohma is there in his limo as promised, hat atop his bleached blonde hair and lacey gloves over his keyboardist fingers. He greets me as I sit opposite him and tells the driver to take us to the restaurant before begging me to tell him what's wrong. I can't bring myself to say anything. Those feelings... I know them all too well. And I never want to feel them again. Feelings like that are too strong, too powerful.

They can ruin a man.

But the worst part was...they were so similar...so much alike.

When we touched, he felt just like Kitazawa-sensei did...

_(1) Choon Bee-- command given by an instructor to student, translates to 'get into the ready position'_

_(2) Nappeun-- 'bad' or 'wrong'_

_(3) Choon Bee Cha Seh-- the Ready stance._

_(4) Ye--yes, you could also say 'ne' for yes as well._

_(5) Nim--sir, a title to show respect to those with more experience._

_(6) Choon Bee Uhn Dong--command, translates to 'ready for warm up exercises'_

_(7) Il, ee, sam, sah, oh, yuk, chil, pahl, ku, sip--first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth in Chinese._

_(8) Shio--a temporary stop, a break_

_(9) Do Jang--training room_

_(10) Muk Yum--meditation_

_(11) Moshi moshi--telephone greeting in Japanese._

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**Hiro's POV**

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"So, Shuichi," I say, trying to make my voice as casual as possible before the I ask the question that's been bothering me since I picked him up from Uesugi Tang Soo Do. "Why did you hug Uesugi-san?" From what I saw of Uesugi-san, he seemed very cold, distant, and just plain unfriendly. In short, he's not the type I usually see my best friend hugging. Ryuichi Sakuma? Sure. But Eiri Uesugi? Never. It just seems so...weird.

Shuichi looks at me for a moment, his head tilted to the side as he sits next to me on the couch, legs folded in the shape of a pretzel beneath his pajama pants and a stick of strawberry pocky in his mouth. I have decided, yet again, to spend the night here on this very couch rather than let Shuichi brave the night himself. "I wanted to thank him for helping me so much," he says at length, finishing off the wafer stick and shifting position a little. His posture has gotten much straighter. "He's taught me a lot."

I nod in agreement. "I know. K did say that he was the best in the city, and he would know." I grab my jacket off the floor and dig around in my pocket for a hair-tie. The one I find is the one K lent me a few weeks ago. A warm feeling comes over me and I pull my hair back with it. I don't think K's going to be getting it back anytime soon. "Anyways, I didn't mean to pry or anything. I was just curious."

"Oh, I know," he said dismissively, slipping off the couch and onto the floor where he crawled towards the entertainment center, sitting in front of his DVD tower. He seemed to pause for a moment, as if a realization just came over him. "...You know, I don't really know what compelled me to hug him... It just felt like the right thing to do at the time. I mean, he's not nice, he pushes my buttons on purpose and he's really quiet, but... I dunno...he's given me so much."

I can understand that, I guess. I mean, I'm in love with a guy who fired his gun at me a few times. Attraction comes from the strangest places, sometimes. "That makes sense," I say, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "I just thought that maybe you might...have more feelings for him than just that."

Shuichi doesn't seem to hear me and begins rummaging through his DVDs. "What sort of movie do you want to watch, Hiro," he asks over his shoulder. "Something with subtitles? I feel like watching something with subtitles tonight..." I shake my head and smile. At times, he seems to shine just like he used to. I hope that someday, he'll be as silly and simple and happy-go-lucky as he used to be. Be the old Shuichi again.

But as I watch him searching for a movie to watch, I know that there is no way he will ever be the 'old' Shuichi again. He might come close, he might heal and move on, but he will never be the same. Things like what Shuichi went through isn't something you ever completely bounce back from. It changes you, leaves a mark.

I can only hope that the darkness will leave his eyes.

Shuichi turns to me, raising a DVD triumphantly over his head. "Aha! Found it! Formula 17(1)!" He stands up and walks back over to the couch, flopping down beside me and holding the movie up in my clear view, giving me his best puppy dog face. I can't help but smile. "Can we watch it, Hiro, please?"

I laugh and pat him on the head. Sometimes he's just too damn adorable. "Of course! Who am I to deny you your favorite movie in your own house?" He beams in victory and hobbles over to the TV to put in the DVD.

"Well, I know that you like The Iron Ladies(2) more and I don't want to put you out, you Mon look-a-like, you," he says in a way that clearly shows he means every word he's saying, but is still going to gloat about it because he can. "But...yay! Formula 17!" He sits back down next to me after he puts the movie in, and I'm comforted by the fact that, for the first time in months, he's actually leaning his head on my shoulder.

About half way through the movie, Shuichi tilts his head to look at me, laughing a little. "You know," he begins, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes, "Uesugi-san thought that you were my boyfriend."

I groan. "Kami-sama, not him too?" Shuichi giggles and I join him. "Why does everyone assume that just because we're both gay, hang out all the time, and have been friends since before we could walk, that we're a couple?"

Shuichi chuckles. "Well, when you put it like that, I can totally see where they get it." His eyes dart to the movie screen and he smacks me hard on the arm, ignoring my complaints of being hit, and points at the TV. "Oh, oh, Hiro! Shh! It's the ice cream line(3)!"

After the movie, I follow Shuichi into his bedroom, picks his discarded do bohk up off the floor and begins folding it meticulously, placing the jacket flat on its back and folding the sleeves inwardly at the seams towards the center. "...You said something before...about me maybe having deeper feelings for Uesugi-san?" His voice is soft, like he really does not want to answer this question as he folds the pants in half and centers it on the jacket, making sure, absently, that the strings are even with the bottom of the jacket.

"Yes, I did." I try to imply with my tone that he needs not answer me if he feels uncomfortable. He nods slowly as he folds the sides of the jacket in towards the center so it covers the pants, before folding it half again. His moments are smooth and languid. He seems almost relaxed as he does this and I wish for the millionth time this week that I had been there to protect him.

"Well...when I shook his hand today...I felt this pulse of electricity, y'know?" Of course I understand that. It's the same type of feeling that I get when K touches me or says my name in that sexy way he does. It makes the hair on my forearms and the back of my neck stand up. He folds the do bohk in half again, folds the belt, and ties it around the jacket and pants. It's weird to watch him do something so organized when he's normally just the opposite.

"So," I say in the most non-judgmental, 'I'm-totally-open-and-understanding-to-whatever-you're-feeling' tone of voice I can muster, "what do you think this means?"

Shuichi lets out a deep breath, eyes unfocused on the do bohk in front of him. "...I don't know," he replies at length, tugging a little on one of the longer chunks of his hair. "I mean, he's...he's not nice, Hiro. He's a great teacher and I have a lot of respect for him, but he's really...cold and calculating most of the time." He picks up the immaculately folded uniform and puts it away in his dresser before turning to face me. He has the ghost of a warm smile on the corner of his lips as he continues. "But today... He wasn't like that today. He was so nice to me, in his own cool way and he said... Well, I hinted that...something bad had happened to me and he... he said that 'we have something in common'." The warm almost-smile is replaced by a look of confusion. "What do you think that's supposed to mean, Hiro?" I shrug in a noncommental way. Do not ask me to fathom the inner workings of the mind of Eiri Uesugi.

"So, I guess the question is really...'are you ready for this'?" Shuichi's confused frown deepens and I gently place my hand on his shoulder. He keeps himself from flinching, which I take as a good sign. "You don't have to answer that right now, Shuichi," I tell him softly, "I'm not going to pressure you and it's not the sort of question you can answer without a lot of thought, anyway."

Suddenly, he looks scared. "I brought this onto myself, didn't I, Hiro? They...they did all of those things to me because I brought it onto myself for liking other men... This is all my fault, isn't it(4)?" There are tears streaming down his face and I wrap my arms around him tight enough so that he feels the comfort they bring, but loose enough for him to escape easily if he needs to.

Gently, I stroke back his hair, letting him cry into my black tee-shirt, shushing him. "No, no, Shuichi, you've got it all wrong," I say softly, allowing him to move closer to me. I dare not steer him to the bed so that we can sit down, too afraid of what affect that might have on him, so I gently sink into a sitting position on the floor. He curls up into my lap, sobbing loudly and sounding completely broken. "It's not your fault," I tell him softly, trying to contain the boiling rage I feel at the scum who reduced my best friend to the sobbing mess in my lap, "It's not your fault... It's their fault, Shuichi... No one blames you..."

It's late, or early, depending on how you look at it, when I finally feel comfortable leaving Shuichi alone. I'm exhausted when I finally reach my apartment and wonder if I shouldn't have just spent the night at Shuichi's, because, despite all his reassurances that he was alright on his own, I still feel like shit for leaving him there by himself.

I sigh and toss my leather jacket onto the couch, followed by my helmet, and I notice through the darkness that the red light from my answering machine is blinking. Pulling off my shirt, I walk over to it and push the button so that the messages play, listening absently as I undress.

"_Hi, you've reached Hiro. Now you say something._" The tone that follows my voice rings through the apartment as I take off my pants and rummage through my drawers for a pair of flannel pajama pants. I sigh and roll my eyes when my mother's voice floods from the machine. "_Hiroshi? Are you there? This is your mother. I'm just calling to remind you that your father's birthday is in two weeks and you'd better be there. He's already upset that Yuji won't be able to make it because of that ridiculous play he's in. Whatever plans you have, cancel them. ...You can bring someone if you have to--_" I can hear the reluctance in her voice and I glare as I violently pull my PJs on--"_as long as it isn't that Shindou boy. He's been a bad influence on you._" I snort. When will she ever give up on this thing? I have long lost count of how many times I've explained to her that Shuichi didn't make me gay. At least she hasn't told me to bring a girl like she did last year. But she still seems to think that this whole thing is some sort of phase. "_Well, we're both looking forward to seeing you. Your father and I send our love. Goodbye._"

I shake my head a little. Despite her stand-offish-ness and her stiffness, she really is doing her best to accept this. But that still doesn't change that I would do anything to get out of this stupid dinner party. I pull on a white wifebeater and walk into the bathroom as the second message plays. "_Hey, Hiro, this is K._" I blink and pause in my tooth brushing. K? What could he want? He's never called me at my home before. "_I...just wanted to see if you know what's been making Shuichi so happy lately..._" I snort and resume in my brushing. K really should come up with better excuses. "_I mean, he's been turning up to work on time and I've barely had to shoot him all week. Any ideas? Well, I hope that you're doing as well as Shuichi is._" There is a small pause and I swear I can hear him smirking. "_Are you wearing anything sexy, Hiroshi?_" I spit my toothpaste out prematurely and look at my own horrified, blushing reflection in the bathroom mirror as his crazy cackle comes from the machine. I swear to the gods, he's crazy! "_Aw, I'm just funning with you, Hiroshi. ...But seriously...if you are wearing something sexy, feel free to call and tell me about it, no matter what the hour!_" I giggle in a decidedly un-macho way and start brushing my hair, a smirk touching the corner of my mouth. Crazy Americans. "_Well, talk to you on the flipside!_" I frown as I recognize the English language being spoken and I try to decipher the weird American figure of speech. "_See you tomorrow!_" The machine tells me that I have no more messages and I continue brushing my hair, a warm feeling in my stomach.

_(1) Formula 17 (or Shi qi sui de tian kong) is a Taiwanese independent movie about a gay circle in Tapei. I watched this at my friend's birthday party and simply fell in love with it. Me and my friends who had read Gravitation kept pointing out all of the similarities between it and Gravitation. For instance, the main character, Tien, who is searching for love, is just like a shy carboncopy of Shuichi, and Bai Tieh-nan, Tien's love interest who has an intimacy disorder which allows him to have sex in the form of one-night stands, but doesn't allow him to really kiss anyone, is like Eiri on Prozac. In short, a wonderful film and I suggest you all see it! (If for nothing else than to see Yu! So funny/adorable in that Ryuichi sort of way!)_

_(2) The Iron Ladies (or Satree lek) is a Thai movie based on the true story of a Thai volleyball team made up almost entirely of gay men, transvestites, drag queens, and transexuals. It's adorable and funny in your typical 'underdog sports movie' sort of way, but I enjoyed it immensely. One of the main characters, Mon, looks like Hiro. Enough said._

_(3) Ah, yes. The infamous 'ice cream line'. This is sort of a running gag between me and my friend Cody. During a particularly awkward silence between Tien and Bai in Formula 17, Tien says in a small, shy voice, 'I want ice cream'. I thought it was the cutest thing ever. So, ever since, sometimes I'll look at Cody and say 'I want ice cream' or vice versa, and we'll burst out laughing. Most people wonder why we're laughing and, once we tell them, don't find it funny._

_(4) This is actually a very common reaction for gay rape victims, especially males who have been raped by other males. They blame themselves and think that it's somehow their fault for loving other men that sex is forced on them. This, of course, is not true. No one askes to be raped and it's no one's fault but the rapist's._

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**Author's Notes: **_That's it! Chapter two! I must say that I was a little disapointed to only recieve half the reviews I got for the first chapter here on fanfiction, but maybe I'll recieve more for this chapter! Sorry that I deprived you guys of a third POV... I'm thinking that I'm going to set it up as Hiro and Eiri's POVs one chapter and then K and Shuichi's POVs the next, unless something important happens and I need to add a third POV into the mix. I was going to add Shuichi's at the end, but it just wasn't working with me at all... It seemed like it would be a better way to start a new chapter rather than end this one. So, look forward to Shuichi's POV in the third chapter! Here's to my lovely reviewers!_

_**kaineko: **Thanks! I really like how you described my writing style! You're not the first person to put it like that, so I suppose it must be true. I'm glad you like this fic and I really hope you continue to review it and give me your input! I hope I don't disapoint!_

_**DemonicDragon666: **Thanks! And I hope you like this chapter as much as the first two!_

_**EbonyAngel: **Thanks a lot for the input! It fuels my muses! Glad you think it's 'utterly great' and I hope that you continue to read, review, and enjoy!_

_**LadySamira: **Ha ha, there's no reason to almost cry! Here's an update to make you happy! I hope you stick with this story; it means a lot to me when people stick with it until the end! I hope I didn't disapoint you with this one and I look forward to more reviews from you in the future! Thanks a lot!_

_**NatsuTsuki: **Glad you liked Shuichi in this! I tried to keep him in character... I don't watch Full Metal Alchemist (that's what FMA stands for, right? ') though. I gave him black hair because that's what they say he has in the manga (even if he always has red/purple/pink/brown hair on the covers) and I really like the contrast of Eiri being blonde and light eyed and Shuichi being more dark in complection, hair color, and eye color... I think it's pretty imagery ' and it makes it seem a little more realistic in my opinion, that Shuichi not have purple eyes, lol. But I'm glad you enjoyed it and I hope you continue to review! Thanks a lot!_


	4. Chapter 3: Cleanse My Wounds

**"Please and Tang Soo"**

**Written By:** _anti-nostalgic kuma (ANKuma for short) (or siriusly delusional...depends on where you're reading this, really)_

**Disclaimer: **_ I don't own Gravitation. I don't know how many times i have to tell you people this before it sinks in, but honestly, i really don't. It's owned by some cool chick named Maki Murikami. sighs Love her._

**Dedicated To: ** _Tori Amos, one of the coolest chicks on the planet._

**Author's Notes: **_So, we're only doing Shuichi's POV, making the chaper a little shorter this time around... I've just been bogged down with school work and then therapy and my friends and my boyfriend and everything's been all crazy lately. In the meantime, I'm thinking about doing a POV here and there whenever it suits the story of a secondary character's POV. For example, Tohma, Sakano, Suguru, Ryuichi, etc. Who would you like to read? Though, I have to tell you now, I absolutely refuse to write Taki's POV... I really don't want to try to get into a rapist's head very much... I hope you understand that. Now, I hope you sit back, relax with a large sized tub of popcorn and the beverage of your choice, and enjoy Please and Tang Soo! (I hate school...)_

**Chapter Three: **_Cleanse My Wounds_

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_"Some people are afraid of what they might find if they try to analyze themselves too much, but you have to crawl into your wounds to discover where your fears are. Once the bleeding starts, the cleansing can begin." _

_**-Tori Amos**_

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_**Shuichi's POV**_

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I don't know why, but I decided that I was going to take a walk in the park a few blocks away from my apartment, the one near Uesugi-sensei's Do Jang, at about three o'clock in the morning. It is now ten minutes later and here I am, shivering in the cool night air, wondering why the hell I came out here in the first place.

It doesn't make sense, really. I guess I've always just felt that I could think better in this park. Whenever I get stuck in the middle of writing song lyrics, I can come here and feel relaxed, calm. It's always been there to stimulate me creatively and emotionally whenever I'm down or in a slump.

It's the only place I have to escape to sometimes.

I haven't been here, though, in nearly five months... Not since they--

I don't want to think about it right now. I shrug deeper into my orange hoodie, my teeth chattering, and sit down on the nearest bench, looking out over Tokyo's bright lights. I pull my legs up against my chest and wrap my arms around them, my head propped up on my knees.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

I try to jump to my feet in surprise, but end up tripping and falling hard on my ass to the cold concrete sidewalk. There, standing six feet away from me, illuminated by an overhead street lamp, stands Eiri Uesugi.

As if I'm not already emotional, depressed, and confused, let's throw him into the mix...

"I-I-I...I was just going for a walk... Couldn't sleep...," I say, once I'm able to make my voice work. I climb back onto the bench with as much dignanty as I can muster. I hug my legs closer to my chest.

He lets out a deep sigh and I'm suddenly aware of two things--one, he's wearing dress clothes which have to have been designed by Armani(1), and, two, that he's smoking a cigarette. For someone who smokes, he's incredibly fit and for someone who's job is teaching Tang Soo Do, he's a snappy dresser. He gestures to the empty space beside me on the bench. "May I join you?" I nod, not sure what else I should do. He sits down next to me, putting out his almost-finished cigarette butt and taking out a package of them from his pocket. He pops one in his mouth and then tilts the box over to me. "Want one?" I shake my head without thinking--K would kill me if I did anything to ruin my voice. He shrugs. "Suit yourself." He lights the end of the cigarette and takes a long drag, exhaling slowly in a puff of smoke.

I make a face. "Those are really bad for you," I say, turning my head to the side to look at him. The moon, the street lamp, and Tokyo's lights seem to have an almost magical effect on him. His blonde hair seems to be a halo around his head and his citrine eyes sparkle in the semi-darkness. He reminds me of the Greek god of the sun that Hiro and I learned about in school... The cold expression and the perfect beauty. I know that Hiro is right in thinking that I have deeper feelings for him than just admiration and gratitude.

Eiri snorts and raises an eyebrow. "Yeah. And?"

I bite my bottom lip before continuing. "Well, it's just... How can you expect to stay as fit and as good at Tang Soo Do if you're smoking away your health?"

The blonde takes another drag, inhaling deeply. When he speaks, smoke billows out of his mouth. In some strange way, I find that attractive. "I don't expect to stay healthy for the rest of my life... And I don't want to quit."

I furrow my brow in confusion. "But you could die from smoking."

His yellow eyes flash sharply--the same way they do in class whenever I make a mistake or talk back--and he blows smoke in my face. "Maybe I want to die."

I can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not, so I settle with forcing a cough and waving the smoke away with my hand. "Well, maybe I don't," I say, fixing him with the same look.

He considers me for a moment before a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips and he puts the cigarette out after one last drag. "Fine. You win. Happy?"

I smile a little, too, still hugging my knees tightly. "Very," I reply, looking away from his pircing eyes and gazing once again at the twinkling city lights. He follows my gaze and notices my shivering.

"You know," he says after a moment, "we should both probably go home... I mean, what's the sense in sitting outside in the cold?"

I shake my head in disagreement. "I don't want to go home. I don't want to be alone right now." I bite my lip as I realize how childish that sounds, like a toddler afraid off the dark.

Eiri considers me for a moment and I feel just as I did whenever we first met; as if he can see every one of my imperfections and faults. He lets out a deep sigh, running a pale hand through his blonde hair with a grace I know I could never muster and his eyes seem to shine brighter in the dark. "Well," he says after what seems like forever, "I don't live far from here. I'm not going to get any sleep tonight anyways, so I guess it wouldn't be a huge deal if you came along."

I nod. For some reason, I am not threatened by Eiri. In fact, around him, I am totally at ease. Even more at ease, I have to admit, than I am with Hiro. I feel as though I'm betraying my best friend for a moment before I realize that it hasn't anything to do with me mistrusting Hiro. Sometimes, the people you trust the most are the hardest to talk to. Hiro is too close to the situation--too involved. It's easier with Eiri because he's outside of all of it all. And, in some bizarre way, I feel like he'd understand if I told him.

He stands up to his full height and I'm made aware, once again, how much taller than me he really is. I uncurl from my position and stand too, shrugging deeper into my hoodie. We walk in silence for a few minutes until we exit the park and start walking down the street and I decide to break the silence. "So, where do you live anyways?" I say, my voice sounding small and nervous compared to Eiri's strong and sure tone. I shove my hands deeper into the conjoined pocket of my hoodie and allow my hair to fall like a curtain in front of my eyes so that I don't have to look into the older man's penetrating eyes.

"I live in that peach-colored apartment complex up the hill down the street from the bakery that sells all of those wagashi cakes," he says and I immediately stop walking. Peach-colored apartment complex? Up the hill? Down the street from the wagashi cake bakery? It takes him a few minutes to realize that I'm no longer walking beside him and he turns around, one perfectly chizled blonde eyebrow raised in question. "What? What is it?"

I seem to be unable to find my voice for a moment. "Ume(2) Apartments?" I say in a small voice, eyes wide.

He nods slowly. "That's what I said."

"...Which apartment?"

For a moment he looks at me as if I'm crazy. "3-D(3), what the hell is the matter with you?" I stare at him for a moment in shock. "Are you on drugs or something?"

I shake my head and regain my composure, forcing out my voice again. "No, I'm not on drugs! It's just..."

"What? Spit it out already!"

"I live in 3-E." He stares at me and for a moment, I swear I can see through him like he sees through me. I see so many things--hurt, pain, bitterness, sadness, vulnerability, fear, anger--it's almost like looking in a funhouse mirror; the image is distorted, but you can still see a resemblence between yourself and the reflection.

I know for certain that, if I were to tell him what happened to me, he'd understand how I feel.

But the moment comes and goes and he puts his guard up again, his yellow eyes cool and calculating. "Huh. Small world." We begin walking again and I stay three paces behind him like some geisha or a housewife. If he notices, he says nothing about it. Maybe he's used to people being obedient. Eiri and I walk the familiar path to the apartment building and I wonder why we haven't seen each other before. Then again, maybe we have, and I've been too preoccupied to notice.

We're nearly there when Eiri sighs deeply and gives me an irritated look. I bite my lip. What did I do wrong? "Look, I'd rather you start ranting or acting like a moron like you usually do, because when you're not acting like a freak, you're boring and a waste of my time."

"Well, excuse me!" As if my anger were just turned on with the flick of a switch, I'm full of what K likes to call 'fire'. The fire grows bigger when I notice that Eiri looks mildly amused by my outburst. "I didn't ask to come back here with you, now did I? I would have been perfectly fine sitting there in the park! You're the one that suggested this, not me, so just deal with it!"

A small half-smile lifts the corner of his lips, which I can't seem to stop starring at. I just got done yelling at the man, and now I suddenly want to hug him again and never let go. What is this feeling...?

"That's better," he says after a length of time and reaches out gently to ruffle my hair, an action which makes me blush profusely and all the words leave my head again. We step into the elevator and stand on opposite sides. I tug at my orange hoodie self-conciously, wishing that I had worn something more dignified. Eiri looks perfect--like a high-fashion model--who's shoes are more expensive than my entire wardrobe. I hope he doesn't notice the hole in my sleeve.

After what seems like an eternity, the doors open and we step out again, walking towards Eiri's apartment. My heart starts pounding. It's been a long time since I've been to another guy's apartment, barring Hiro. Not since... But for some reason, I don't feel as uncomfortable as I thought I would. Eiri seems to comfort me in a weird way, I suppose. He's strong--stronger than me--but somehow I know he would never use that strength to hurt me...to overpower me.

He takes his keys out of his pocket and sticks the right one into the lock with a motion so precise and fluid that it almost seems otherworldly. In a few seconds, the door opens and we step inside the dark apartment. I jump in surprise when he flicks the lights on and he gives me a strange look which moves me to embarassment. God, can't I behave even semi-normally around this man?

"Well, we're here," he says bluntly, a small yawn escaping his full lips and interupting his speaking, "now what?"

I blush a little as I slip off my shoes and look around the room. It's furnished in what has to be designer furniture and minimalist art pieces that must have cost fortunes. I want to ask how a simple Tang Soo Do instructor can afford such finery, but I know it'd be rude to ask. The walls are stark white and sterile, as is the carpet and the ceiling. The furniture and the stands seem to made of ebony. I don't know where is a safe place to sit.

Eiri gives me a strange look and gestures to his long, L-shaped, black leather couch. "Sit." I do very quickly, glad that I was given some sort of direction. "Do you want something to drink? Tea, beer, coffee, water...?" I tell him I want coffee and he leaves the room to go get it. There was no way I'd ever drink beer again...not after what happened the last time another man offered it to me.

He returns, setting down my coffee and a can of beer on the coffee table before sitting down next to me, ankle resting on his knee and arm draped over the back of couch so that his fingers are almost brushing my shoulder. The whole place smells like stale cigarettes, beer, and coffee, but it's not at all unpleasant. We sit in silence as he drinks only a few sips of his beer. I don't touch my coffee. It goes cold.

After a few moments, I feel his fingers ghost over my shoulder. Little static shocks. My eyes widen. I look over at him, confused and a little frightened. He fixes me with a look before he breaks the silence. "Why don't you want to be alone?" My bottom lip trembles and I feel tears well in my eyes. I bite them back and look away.

I take a very deep breath. Then I tell him. "About three months before I started Tang Soo Do with you, I..." I shake my head and try again. Nothing seems to be coming out right. Then again, the only person I ever told this story to was Hiro and his eyes do not bore into my soul like golden fire and send shivers down my spine like Eiri's. "There was this other musician...a singer, like me...working at NG. He had this...vendetta against me. Hiro says he was jealous of my talent, that he was angry I got signed to a better contract than he did, that I was gaining more popularity. I...don't really know what to think about all of that. It's purely conjecture. The only thing I know for sure is that...he hates me." His fingers move subtly on my shoulder. I think it's his way of comforting me and urging me on at the same time. I take a deep, shakey breath. "One day...I was being chased by a group of fangirls in the mall and...he rescued me from them. I remember thinking, 'wow, he's not such a bad guy after all...'" My stomach turns as I remember thinking that... How could anyone fall for such a thin act? I swallow the acidic bile rising in throat. Gods, it makes me sick. "He...gave me a drink. I drank it. It was drugged... I don't know how long I was blacked out, but when I woke up, I was in the bottom level of a parking garage on the other side of town and..." I swallow hard, the tears falling noiselessly down my cheek, "he had brought friends."

I wrap my arms tightly around myself, pulling my legs up against my chest. If Eiri minds that my feet are on his couch, he says nothing. His fingers brush away a few tears that run down my cheek and I lean forward into the touch. "Go on," he says in a voice with thinly veiled emotion. "Trust me, you'll feel better once you do."

I hug myself tighter, wondering how he knows this, but I do as Eiri askes. "They...they held me down... Took turns... he...took pictures... Hours. It went on for hours." I rock back and forth, eyes wide as I relive it for a moment, tears flowly silently down my neck. Eiri doesn't bother to wipe them away now. There are too many. "When they were...done...I was left there...bleeding. I pulled my clothes back on, found my way to the elevator, and got out of the parking garage. I realized that I wasn't terribly far from Hiro's so... I started walking there. I could barely move, it hurt so bad, and it was raining down hard. It wasn't until I was accross from his apartment building that I remembered my cell phone was in my pocket. I couldn't move anymore. I called him and he carried me up to his apartment."

I feel strangely...naked now that I've said it, but whether that is better or worse, I do not know. Eiri's long silence bothers me, but I don't dare break it. He looks at me after a moment, before he lets out a long sigh, brushing a few stray hairs out of his eyes. "Did you press charges?" His voice is gruff.

"No," I say softly. "Hiro wanted me to, but I... I just couldn't." I dig my fingernails into my skin until little crescent-shaped lines appear, small curves red with surfacing blood. It feels good; gives me something else to focus on and helps me breathe without hypervenilating. Eiri notices, but says nothing about it. "I...I haven't seen him since... He doesn't work at NG anymore. It's almost like he's...disapeared...or...something."

Eiri reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, not caring if I protest, though I don't make a sound. He takes a few well-deserved puffs before his eyes settle on me once more, beauiful citrine. "This is why you started Tang Soo Do with me, then?" The rough edge his voice held previously is gone and is instead replaced by what could almost be considered tenderness.

I nod. "Yes. I don't ever want to feel like that again..."

"Like what?" Even though he askes the question, I can tell he already knows the answer to it.

I look him in the eyes. "Helpless."

Gently, his hands reaches out and strokes my cheek, wiping away the tear tracks from underneath my eyes. I shiver with emotion at the contact, eyelashes fluttering involuntarily. My whole body seems to relax, unfurled and unraveled. His hand moves to the back of my head and he pulls me closer to him until our lips meet in a moment of unadultrated perfection. Balm for all wounds. Cleansed. Purified. Saved.

I have found Enlightenment in his kiss.

_(1) Picture Eiri dressed in this: Ume is a Japanese/Chinese plum/apricot. They make duck sauce out of it._

_(3) My mom lives in an apartment with the number 3-D. It's just so much fun to say! Eiri Yuki... deep man's voice IN 3-D!!!!!!!!!!_

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**Author's Notes Part Deux: **_So, how was it? This took longer to write than the last two chapters combined and yet it's shorter. Well, I added that kiss in to make the wait worth while for you! I think it took so long because it was really difficult to write Shuichi's confession. Well, leave your comments, please! I do enjoy them so very much! And now, shout-outs to all of my reviewers!_

_**Patpat: **Thanks a bunch! These chapters take a while to write, though, and I'm a junior, so it's really hard to balance writing with homework and hanging out with my friends, and reading all the manga that my boyfriend makes me read (coughcoughJingcoughcough) and open mic nights and all of that fun stuff... But I will try to write faster and make the next chapter longer than this one! Thanks for the luck, and I hope you continue to read and review!_

_**Bram: **Well, that was just K being...you know...K. Oh, you should definately watch _**Formula 17**_! I loved it to death! You should compare all of the characters in it to Gravitation characters and see what the results are for you! And Yu is so adorable! Not to mention the infamous Ice Cream Line. See? It's so important that I typed it with capital letters at the beginning of each word! Anyways, thanks for the review and I hope to get more reviews from you soon! Ja!_

_**LadySamira: **Thanks so much! I don't get a 'brilliantly written' very often, so...yay! Though, if the last chapter had your heart-strings pulling... Well, this one was probably way worse... I had such a hard time writing Shuichi's confession... I don't know how many times I got Writer's Block during that explaination, and it isn't even that long... It was just really emotionally taxing on me. I hope that this chapter was good, though, and I hope you continue to review! See ya!_

_**Catchy Turn: **What can I say? There are simply not enough Hiro/K stories! Which is a shame, because guys with long hair are hot! Is Shuichi in character? It's so hard for me to write him and yet I do it all the time in this story. I'm much more used to writing Eiri's POV, which, for some reason, comes pretty easily for me. Thanks for all the nice words and I hope that you continue to read, review, and enjoy this story!_

_**DemonicDragon666: **Thanks a lot! I hope that this chapter was just as good and you keep enjoying it and you keep giving me feedback!_

_**Tensko1234: **Well, here's the next chapter! Hope I didn't disapoint! And I hope you enjoy it as much as the last!_

_**rynn: **Thanks! Here's the next chapter! I hope it was worth the wait!_

_**NatsuTsuki: **Ha ha! I know, I just love K! It's really funny, actually, because my Graphics and Electronic Media teacher's name is Mr. K and when I talk about Mr. K from Gravitation, everyone at Tech gets confused! Glad that you liked it and I hope you continue to read and review! Ja!_

_So, that's it! Read, review, and please, don't be stingy with the compliments! They make me very happy! Well, that's it this time around, minna-san! I hope you enjoyed it and continue reading it! Ja!_

**In The Next Chapter: **_How will Eiri feel about kissing Shuichi? How will Shuichi feel about kissing Eiri? Will they become closer, or push each other away? And how will K react to being invited to Hiro's father's birthday party as Hiro's date? Gasp! All in the next chapter of _**Please and Tang Soo**_. Same bat time, same bat channel!_


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